


Tales From The Old Building

by virghoe



Category: Game Grumps, Ninja Sex Party - Fandom
Genre: College AU, Cunnilingus, Drunk Kisses, Eventual Smut, F/M, I hate referring to him as danny sexbang ugh, I've never written one of these b4 yikes, Semi-Public Sex, Shotgunning, Shower Sex, Slow Build, Stoner Dan lmao, not finished, sad things???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-09
Updated: 2015-07-23
Packaged: 2018-04-08 11:08:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 22,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4302513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/virghoe/pseuds/virghoe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When you transfer to new college and actually begin your life, making friends is... difficult. Luckily a party and a drunken mistakes introduces you to some pretty spectacular characters. (This is my first time writing anything AO3 wise or for this fandom so!! I would totally appreciate any sort of feedback)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. New Beginnings (Ugh Barf @me)

**Author's Note:**

> Kind of an alternate timeline sorta deal: basically Dan is college age with you, he’s in his senior year, and you’re in your junior, you’ve just transferred over from community college. And I’m actually not in college yet so sorry if i get some things wrong!! It won’t be majorly focused on the education aspect lmao. Sorry I made a lot of the characteristics of (y/n) close to mine bc i’m garbage. Some original characters but rlly no development for them bc like who cares. Also stoner Danny bc yeah

Alarm clocks are a good place to start. Yours wasn’t the traditional one, it was the gentle shake of your shoulder when your mother woke you. It was a wordless encounter. Nervousness tied your tongues so tight, that eyes were your remaining form of communication. Kneaded lips and missed glances were a constant that morning as you moved the remaining luggage into a new dorm. You and her had gone on a shopping spree two weeks earlier for this, but none of it felt real until she was helping you tuck the sheets on your new bed. You looked over to your roommate's mussed sheets with papers peppered between pillows and books and knew this was your future. And while getting lost in the anxiety stirring in your stomach, your mom gripped your upper arms and gave you a look. Words weren't a strong suit for either one of you. But if You had to guess the look said “I love you more than life” or “I am so very proud of you” or any other mantra she had been saying since… well birth.  
  
You watched as the “My child’s a shining star!” sticker blurred as your mom drove away, and mosied yourself back to your room. Once twiddling thumbs became boring you opened your computer and found a new outlet for boredom, classes wouldn't start until monday for you so you were stuck drowning in anticipation. College felt like an amazing club you had been spending all day waiting and preparing for but now that you were actually here, everything felt like you had been carded at the door.  
  
It was either forever or two minutes until your roommate came in, she was quiet but clearly in the process of figuring something out, when she was done with whatever train of thought that was chugging through her mind she introduced herself formally. Assuming the same position as you she opened her laptop and casually spoke to you. Eye contact wasn’t really necessary for this, the only time she would make it was when she invited you to a party celebrating the new semester down at the old building near the cemetery. Before you could answer she warned you that it was the stoner building, you laughed and still agreed.  
  
“Well, what do you plan on wearing” she asked after a moment of silence.  
  
That was a loaded question. While you wouldn’t consider yourself too concerned with fashion, clothes were fun for you. And you did have a method to the madness of your closet, but clothes could also be your own worst enemy. Like anyone you were not so confident with your body. So you had to be careful about how you chose this outfit, you wanted to make a good impression. I mean, this was the first time you had ever been to anything like this. While community college was “real college”, in your whole 2 years there you had never been invited to a “college party”.  
  
After what felt like a 90’s movie montage of outfits, and a formal introduction of your ass to your roommate, you and her had agreed on a white halter lace dress, that flared at the hip. You matched it with nude flats but knowing yourself they wouldn’t stay on 15 minutes into the party. As you and your roommate walked to the old building, your heart began to out time your footsteps, and it was only worse when you got inside. It wasn’t wild, and you could tell it was a liberal arts college because they had MGMT and The Wombats playing rather than any top 40s tracks, but the lack of familiarity was twisting your stomach into knots. Soon you found yourself backed up against the wall, slowly sipping the single most disgusting drink you’ve ever had. They put one of those grandma strawberry candies in the bottom? Your roommate was gone, just gone. Like bye. This place on the wall would become rather cozy as you people watched. Your eyes followed the fairy lights that started behind your back and trailed the ceiling and up and down the walls and through the-  
  
You lost track when you heard the sound equipment being set up. Upon further investigation you saw a house band setting themselves up, your eyes were set particularly on the mass of hair that was messing with the amps. You had yet to see his face but from this view he reminded you of Animal from the muppets. A small laugh followed this train of thought. When he finally turned to adjust his mic stand he pushed the hair from his face parting it drastically over. Hair clumping over to the side you finally could see his face. Oh no, he was cute.


	2. You Got Drunk At A Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title a little self explanatory. But ya know

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, sorry if this is majorly slow for you I tried to write a little ahead just so I could give you it all at once. It's not finished but i have a lot in mind for this so don't worry! And it's summer so I don't have anything holding me back. Also my grammar in the notes is atrocious hopefully you dont think this is my real typing style

He tipped his head forward and chuckled into the mic, turned around to continue talking to his bandmates. You left your wall to find a closer one, you soon found yourself on the wall adjacent to the “stage”, it was really just an area marked off by duct tape on the carpet. You hope he didn’t notice you looking at him, or chewing your lip at him, you were so worried in fact you would dart your head in a completely different direction if he even glanced your way. If anyone were looking at you closely enough, you looked crazy. You tried to make your movements subtly but ultimately failed at that. When they started playing you felt a smile tug at your lips. It was a shitty band, doing mostly covers and often having to stop to adjust themselves in the middle of the song, but the way they were laughing and joking made up for it. And this muppet guy could actually sing, which you were surprised to hear because most college indie bands do that “sad boy crying into the mic” cop out move for their singer. You got lost in the messy riffs and the sloppy, laughing voice of your muppet singer man, it felt intoxicating, or that was the drink. No. It was definitely the drink. They played for about an hour and dispersed into the crowd once they packed themselves up, it was only 11 you still had a lot more party to go.

Being a lightweight you tried to slow yourself down on the alcohol, you were finishing up your third drink and you started to really feel it. You were a sleepy drunk, and when eyelids became heavy, you considered leaving- no, you were definitely leaving. You pushed your way through the crowd, eyes targeted on a trash can sitting directly next to the door, you calculated how you would in one swift movement, toss the cup and slide out the door. You almost heard a chorus of angels singing as you moved to the door, the idea of sleep becoming a very real possibility. Then it hit you, well he hit you. You stepped back and let your mind put together the events of the last 2 seconds and when you finally realized you had bumped into and spilled your drink on the guy in front of you, you were more than a little embarrassed. You hadn’t really spoken all night, so when you had communicate some sort of apology to this guy you were a little rusty.

  
“I oh- my god, wow, I-I’m drunk I-” you slurred/stuttered.

  
“Hey, hey it’s totally cool” he said back, a tinge of laughter to his voice.

  
It was just then you realized it was The Guy. The Music Muppet Man Guy. You had an incredible rant stirring in your mind about how you were so sorry and that you really enjoyed his set but all your tongue could muster was:

  
“Oh no, it sucks that I did that to you.. I actually really liked your set” Your eyes squeezed shut out of embarrassment, you weren’t smooth normally so it was no surprise that adding 2 1/2 drinks to the situation didn’t make you smoother.

  
He laughed. “Do you need to go home?”.

  
“I’m on my way actually, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to-”

  
“I’ll walk you there, C’mon”

  
You followed him out the door and with shoes in one hand and your purse in the other, you let the grass that poked through the brick walk ways tickle your toes. It was a quiet walk back to your dorm, long and quiet. Your dorm was on the complete other side of the campus, and it wasn’t a brutal walk just, long. As you walked you tracked the bricks, trying to step on each one and never two at once, when you were drunk you were easily entertained. He must’ve seen your little ballerina act because you heard him chuckle. You flattened out your steps and walked normally, but still looking at your feet. Out of the corner of your eye you saw him mimicking your little game, trying only to step on one brick at a time, but since his feet were so big it was a lot harder for him. When his entire body began to wiggle, a slight wash of fear over his eyes, and as horrible as it sounds, you could hear yourself laughing. When he turned to you with a toothy grin that’s when you lost it, cackling so hard your knees went weak. He pranced farther ahead of you, spinning and leaping as elegantly as his limbs could manage. He walked to you and took your hand dragging you back down the pathway to your dorm. He let go loosely, and you wish he hadn’t.

  
“Did I mention I’m a dance major?” He laughed.

  
“I could’ve guessed” you bounced back.

  
Silence again, maybe with an interruption for a cleared throat but mostly silence. After you could make out the door to your dorm in the dimly lit quad, you could tell you only had a few minutes left with this guy. You forced the few words you had in you out, just to say something.

  
“So what are you majoring in?” that sounded alright.

  
“Advertising” he said with a slight shrug of his shoulders.

  
“I take some music courses but, just music sounded, not.. good enough”

  
“You’re telling an art major…” You said back with a sigh.

  
“Oh, shit, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to sound-”

  
“It’s cool” you half smiled back at him.

  
When you finally got to the door, you were wordless again. You leaned your weight against the door and gave him eyes that said “I guess I have to go”. He shrugged in response, nodding. Slipping through your door you gave him a small wave, the kind a toddler gives. He smirked and mimicked you. Eventually you were in your bed and wishing you had gotten his name or something, wishing you weren’t too drunk to be bold, and wishing you weren’t drunk to begin with. When you finally got your emotions to ease, you let yourself sleep.

  
You woke up to your roommate shaking you awake. She was just letting you know she was going out to eat but before leaving she slipped back into the room and tossed you a post it note.   
“This was on the door for you.” was all she mumbled before she was gone.

  
You sat yourself up and when you could finally focus your vision on the note you saw it said:

  
“ _BTW I’m Dan Avidan. I live in the old building if you ever want to visit_ ”.

  
Oh good, the stoner building.


	3. Barry Exists

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is short and i am garbage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one is shorter than i thought it out???? But whatever yall have more to come! Hopefully ur enjoying it so far

It’s been 2 weeks since that party and you were settling in somewhat nicely. Although you didn’t have traditional "friends" you were getting a lot of work done. You haven’t seen Dan since. That doesn’t mean you’ve been avoiding him it’s just, you were scared to talk to him. So yeah, you were avoiding him. Something about him felt so unapproachable which probably sounds ridiculous to other people, but it was just in your nature to feel insignificant.  
   
And ok maybe the part about you not having friends wasn’t true, you could consider one person your friend. At the convenience shop on campus there was a guy always working the mornings you showed up to get coffee or cereal or something. You gathered that his name was Barry, his name tag being a major clue in your investigation. This morning you were running a little late to studio so you would have to be quick.  
  
“Hey you” Barry said as you walked briskly through the shop to get what you needed, popping up from behind a shelf you said:  
  
“Hey Barry!” and as you got closer you continued,  
  
“It just now occurred to me that you probably don’t know my name, it’s (y/n)”  
  
He chuckled and nodded, ringing you up and giving you your plastic bag. Before you could turn around and leave he asked:  
  
“Hey were you at that party over in the old building a few weeks back?”  
  
“Oh, uh yeah, actually”  
  
“Oh, because my buddy, Dan, has been wondering about a girl with pink hair and since you’re the only girl here with-”  
  
“Yeah. Um that’s right he, uh, walked me home- Look I gotta get to studio I’m sorry, see you tomorrow?”  
  
Barry nodded and as you left you felt a ton of nerves surge through your body. If you were going to be honest with yourself, the reason you were avoiding Dan is because you liked him. And you hated having crushes on people. Feelings like that always made you majorly uncomfortable because, well to be honest you felt like they weren’t ever going to be a possibility. And yeah, thats a melancholy way of looking at it but you really couldn’t separate yourself from that connotation. And to be completely honest it wasn’t even a crush you just thought he was cute. Just cute.  
  
You continued these rambling thoughts all throughout your studio time and out the door back to your dorm. When you could finally see your dorm you saw a figure sitting on the stoop outside. Oh my god it wasn’t-  
  
“Hey, you know you’re pretty tough to find.” A pause  
  
“Wait, that was creepy wasn’t it? God sorry I just- I don’t know, I can leave if you want? Yeah I’ll-”  
  
“Stay” you said rather firmly, with a crack in your voice.  
  
“Please” you continued.  
  
And Dan smirked.


	4. Drugs!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So i guess this is where i say "Don't do drugs kids". So don't do drugs kids, adults party on. Seniors? go batshit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so basically i updated chapters 1-4 all in one night so if u left any sort of criticism its not that i ignored you!! I just didn't see it when writing! Thanks guys so much even tho this is garbage i actually rlly like writing it!!

You snapped the rubber band that was keeping your new piece coiled up while you both tried to find words. He was sitting close to you on the stoop, your knees trying so hard not to touch.

  
“So could we start with your name?” he smiled at you.

  
“oh yeah, uh (y/n)” you said almost forgetting your name. And it was quiet again.

  
“Yeah, sorry for showing up just.. here. But my friend Barry said you remembered me and... I don’t know I guess I was just wondering if you wanted to hang out? Like at my place? I mean Barry will be there too it’s not just-”.

  
“Yeah, that sounds… good” you didn’t understand why everything was so stilted, but as soon as you saw him smile back at you, you could feel your shoulders relax a little.

  
“I can do it now if you want? I’m finished for today so” you felt the sentence just drift off.

  
“Yeah, yeah that sounds good” He said already heading off. You sat and watched, him being tall wasn’t helping with this whole “tiny crush” thing. Before he went too far you tried to catch up with him. Walking beside him was quiet. But the good kind of quiet, the type that felt like nothing had to be said, it was content in the truest form of the word. In the pattern of your mind just truly appreciating this walk and wondering if he wanted to talk and just looking back at him again because, god he was cute, it was in the balance of too long and not long enough before you got there.

  
The old building was that. Old. You hadn’t been able to see it too intensely the night of the party so you took a closer look while Dan tried to find his keys. It was a brick building with chipped white detail, ivy grew up the sides and traced every window. In each window was either a set of speakers, a fan, or a plant. When you noticed the broken and slightly burnt couch sitting on the front yard Dan cut any assumptions by saying “Don’t ask”. Dan lead you up the stairs to his dorm which was huge compared to yours. He flopped down on the couch he had in what seemed to be a living room/kitchen area. He gestured for you to sit anywhere, you looked over to the unreasonably huge bean bag chair.

  
“Oh yeah! Sit in the foof.” he said excitedly as the realization hit him,

  
“Foof?” you asked. He smirked,

  
“Yeah its like this huge Swedish bean bag chair and, dude, its amazing.”

  
You eyed him questioningly when you lowered yourself into the chair, losing balance you fell back and the chair began to slowly envelope you. He tried to hold back a laugh, but once your muffled chuckle was heard he joined in.

  
“I’m going to die in here, oh my god” You said breathlessly, laughs still swallowing your words.

  
“No, no, no just _become one_ with the foof” couldn’t even finish, he was laughing too hard. You began to swing your legs wildly out of the chair, with over dramatic pleas for help. In his fit of laughter, he finally decided to help you. He stretched out his hand for you to grab, you did, but your weight pulled him down rather than pulling you up, in hindsight maybe he did this on purpose. He was on top of you now. Yikes. He pulled himself up on his elbows over top of you, His head leaning down to look at you, your breathing was hitched, and eyes a little wide.

  
“It’s (y/n), right” he smirked, you took a mental note of how much he enjoyed sarcasm.

  
“Yeah” you smiled back at him.

  
All at once you heard the door creak open and Barry chime “Hey, I got that bread you liked from- Oh shit I can come back I-”. Dan sat up quickly and interrupted Barry.

  
“N-No its cool just a foof related accident, uh yeah, you wanna watch TV with me and (y/n)?” Barry looked back and forth at you two.

  
“Yeah, sure...” Barry said as you could see the thought physically leaving his mind. The night progressed on standardly from then, the three of you sat and watched TV, as planned. However you all began to get pretty close, you talked about your transfer, they talked about their majors and how good it felt to be months from finished. It felt so good to actually talk. You felt so closed up, not being able to connect with your roommate, that saying anything to these guys felt so refreshing. With the way things had been going, you toyed with the idea of considering them friends. You wouldn’t tell them that yet, you didn’t want to freak them out. But to you, they were friends.

  
“Ok, ok but like tell me this, in Teen Titans why doesn’t Beast Boy just fly up above the enemy as, like, a bird, then turn into a fucking whale and crush them? Like?” You asked in response to the TV. As Barry and Dan laughed you could see Dan get an idea and once he calmed down he asked the group:

  
“I totally didn’t think about it, but do you guys want to smoke? I can pack a bowl right now if you want.” Dan asked. You had smoked before, and weed wasn’t a big deal for you but you wondered if they would be uncomfortable with the “High You”. Because when you get high you were giggly and, well, flirtatious. You didn’t want to be too inappropriate with these guys, especially since you actually _enjoyed_ being around them. But before you could deliberate anymore in your head you agreed. An impulse decision.

  
You kept reminding yourself to be on your best behavior while dan was filling the bowl, and if you were going to be honest, the bowl was beautiful. It was traditional glass but the colors melded in a way that created a space like effect, it would probably look even better when illuminated. Dan swiped a lighter from the table and flicked it a couple of times just to test it, Barry reached for the bowl, but Dan would stop him.

  
“No, no” he smiled, “Ladies ALWAYS get greeds, where’s your manners?” Dan had a constant chuckle when he talked, it made his voice melodic, it was hard not to fall in love with it. Barry bounced his laughter as I grabbed the bowl.

  
“Oh my, how lucky am I to be in the presence of such gentlemen?” You asked in your most ridiculous “Southern Bell” voice. Before they could answer, you folded your lips and lit the bowl. You flicked your thumb out over the hole repeatedly as the light began to fade. You held the smoke as you passed to Barry, a slight cough catching you. You had a bad habit of taking too big of hits. You let the smoke filter out between your lips and dance in front of you. This perhaps was your favorite part of smoking, watching the grey escape and swirl before you. It was so entrancing, partly due to the fact your focus was easily stolen when you were high.

  
“Woah, (y/n)...” Barry exclaimed with a cough, passing the bowl to Dan.

  
“What?” you smiled back at him,

  
“Well, to be honest, I didn’t think you smoked. You know, for realsies.” Barry smiled.

  
“Well I do. For realsies. But I’m a light weight, don’t worry I’ll be stupid in a few hits”. After 2 more cycles you looked at your phone, shit, you should be home soon. While you and your roommate weren’t friends she’d seemed “so very worried” about you if you came home late enough to wake her up. You found this out the hard way with late nights in the studio.

  
“Hey I gotta go, thank you guys though, we totally need to hang out again” You managed to say with a laugh peppered throughout your words.

  
“No, no I’ll walk with you back- just to make sure you’re safe” Dan said trying to keep his giggles stifled. After some resistance back and forth you finally nodded and let him walk with you. As you left the house you congratulated yourself on not making a fool out of yourself yet, I mean you had said a few silly things but it was fine, maybe. The walk felt quicker this time. Still quiet, but faster. It was late, campus was normally dead from this point on, Dan brought the remains of the bowl and took a hit every so often, you held off, you were pretty far anyway. Once you were at your stoop you leaned against your door. You felt yourself wanting to find excuses for him to stay, anything really

  
“I wasn’t too stupid tonight was I?” You managed to think up,

  
“Nah, I’ve seen worse.” he scratched the back of his head while smirking back at you. You sat at your stoop and looked up at him, trying to focus on just him right now.

  
“I had to show some restraint to the stupid ideas I was having” you confessed, and oh god, you just said something you shouldn’t have.

  
“Oh really? Like what?” he said as he flopped down beside you, amused.

  
“Well, I uh, I- No, no it’s ok forget I said anything” You smiled into your palm, looking anywhere but him. God, when you were high it was hard to shut your mouth.

  
“Well now you have to tell me” he leaned in and lifted your head with his glance. You bit your lip at him,

  
“You wont make fun?”

  
“I promise”

  
“Well, to be honest, I thought about asking you to shotgun- Well because I had never done it before, I don’t know. You see I told you it was stupid like-” he was laughing. Oh my god, you should have just shut your mouth, oh my god. God why did you tell him? This is the worst thing-

  
“Do you still want to?” With a gulp you nodded. Nothing about the situation seemed romantic, and yeah, while shotgunning wasn’t inherently romantic you just had never heard of platonic form. He lit the bowl with flickering eye contact from you and the light. With his mouth full of smoke he tapped your lip for permission, You nodded and let him get closer, eyes fluttered shut as eyes he blew a gentle, small, stream to your mouth, noses pressed against one another. It was the farthest from a kiss as you could let it be. When the smoke ran thin his eyes shot up to yours. He then smiled widely, and something about that made you squeeze your eyes shut with laughter and fall forward, your head was on his shoulder as you shuddered, God, it was all so ridiculous. He patted your back as he echoed your laugh, you sighed and stood up.

  
“Thanks for that, I can cross it off the bucket list now” you said, finally calming down and finally opening your door.

  
“Anytime” he smiled back. In a similar fashion to the night you first met, you waved goodbye to him, fingers opening and closing gently. He mimicked you, paired with a smile suppressed by a bitten lip **.  
**


	5. Woops

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title kinda self explanatory but ya know.  
> Also Mr.Brightside by The Killers is not a good song no way i would endorse that

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey so basically this weekend I'm going on a camping trip this weekend (july 10th-12th) and so i probs wont be able to update until monday! sorry guys but ill def have a chapter ready by then! Thanks for the support lmao

And not exactly planning it out, the next couple of weeks went like that. You’d visit each other, watch TV, somehow end up back at the old building and smoke, and then at the end of the night Dan would walk you home. He always said it was “to make sure you were safe” but, let’s be real, no one was out that late and he always stayed out an extra hour just to talk to you on your stoop. You didn’t want to jump to any conclusions, but he liked you, right? I mean, why would he do all that if he didn’t? Whenever you got caught up in that train of thought you had to shake yourself free of it. All of the “Does he?”, “Does he not?” stressed you out in the end.

  
But even with all that you considered Dan and Barry your friends. Because even when you weren't high you enjoyed each others company, let's be real, it's pretty easy to like someone when your faded, so to actually have a bond with these people sober was just incredibly good, and safe. Recently, relationships had felt so forced so to actually have some people you didn’t have to put up fronts for was more than a little refreshing. You were grateful.

  
At the end of one of these nights, you leaned on your door looking at him, and, God, it wasn’t fair. How did he look so good only lit by a distant street lamp? Getting lost in the glow set against his curls, and how his stubble was growing in for the winter and, his stupid hat that looked so aggravatingly cute on him, you barely heard his voice. But that wasn’t all your fault, whatever he said, he said while shoving his fists in his pockets and mumbling. Amused you lifted his glance with your corresponding one,

  
“What?” a smile raised your pitch.

  
“I, just, well. There’s this party, that the other people in the old building want to throw the day before thanksgiving break, and I’m gonna play and I don’t know… I was wondering if you wanted to come? If you don’t it’s ok I-”

  
“Why wouldn’t I want to come?”

  
“Well last time you got a little drunk and I don’t know if you’re comf-”

  
“Oh yeah, n-no. It’s fine. I promise, I have my buds now, right?” You smiled, shooting him some finger guns. Something about him made you subconsciously make a jack ass out of yourself.

  
“Yeah, yeah. I guess you do.” He smiled back at you, but not his normal quick one, usually accompanied by a sharp laugh but, something soft. Something gentle. You couldn’t look away from how his lips rubbed against each other, in hesitation or, nervousness, or just restlessness.

  
\-----

  
Ever since the invite, time took that familiar pace of too fast and too slow. And preparing for the party was a game of “Try not read too intensely into the way Dan invited you”. Even getting dressed was an internal tug of war. Trying to dress specifically without Dan in mind, but ultimately failing when you saw a dress that made your legs look especially good.

  
And the walk up to the old building, which in the past few weeks had seemed simple enough, felt like a marathon. The worst part of arriving at a party has to be the time between knocking on the door and it actually opening. Because that's the time you make your last minute adjustments and that’s the time you realize you must look fucking stupid, and that’s the time that you think "maybe I should go home-  
To your surprise it was Barry who opened up the door,

  
“(y/n)! Hey!” he exclaimed while knocking back his drink, yikes. You guess this thing was already in motion. You walked in shyly, trying to keep to yourself, you returned to your signature spot from the first party, just a little bit off from the slightly peeled duct tape “stage”. Now that you were looking at it, you saw Dan’s signature stand in contrast to the silver. You smiled into the lip of your bottle, God, beer was gross. Dan spotted you from across the room, almost eager to leave the conversation he was in, and walked over. With a sarcastic grace he tapped the neck of his beer with yours, you talked mindlessly for awhile, always a laugh seasoning his rambling. The light was soft, warm, and gentle. You imagined tracing the shadows along his chin, below his eyes, down his shoulder. You let this idea dance around in your mind before he was interrupted by a guy tapping his shoulder. He said something quickly and then made his way to the amps to mess with them. Dan looked to me with mashed lips and a slight sigh.

  
“Duty calls. But stay up front, ok?” he said, instructing me with the tip of his bottle before downing the rest.

  
“You got it” you said back as casually. In the time Dan was setting up, Barry made his way over to stand by you. The two of you joked throughout the set, occasionally taunting Dan together at appropriate moments. Your favorite being when you and Barry simultaneously shouted “Horns up” at him with a silly little “rock and roll” hand gesture. Once Dan finished/got tired he walked over to us.

  
“You two are going to be the death of my music career” He laughed,

  
“Look, we can’t help if you’re not hardcore” Barry had a fatherly chortle about him. The three of you leaned up against this wall and talked as if you were trying to play a game of “Which group of people can be the most pretentious”. You were winning. You guys had the advantage of having a girl with a look that said “I’m not like other girls”, God, even the thought of that phrase was annoying. When you all got tired of taking ghost sips of your drinks, you offered to grab another round.

  
It wasn’t a race to get back in time but you had plenty of hurdles facing you, the long lines, shouting to the guy giving out the drinks who really couldn’t hear you over whatever indie band was playing directly into your eardrums, the drunk guy bumping into you, making you have to go back and replace the previous bottles. It seemed to be easy going by the time you got back to your wall, and it was; until you saw some girl dangling from Dan’s side. Maybe it _was_ a race. You swallowed hard, and walked into the group. It was then that she spoke:

  
“Heeeeyy!” she extended

  
“My name is Alice and oh my god, can I just say I _love_ your hair!” from the way her highs and lows ping ponged through the sentence you could tell she was drunk, I mean, just absolutely hammered. And she was sweet, all girls were when they were drunk. And you couldn’t blame her for holding on to Dan, he was a form of stability and he was cute, the two things needed when drunk flirting. You and Barry stood next to each other stiffened from this girl, but Dan was casual. And maybe that’s what made you the most angry. You knew you _shouldn’t_ be jealous or angry, but you were. The ten year old in you was boiling up a temper tantrum so strong, no suburban mother could calm you. After what felt like forever of awkward conversation and drifting sentences, her movements slowed down, and her speech was more of a continuous mumble, Dan asked if she wanted a walk home. This sent you through the roof. And the worst part is you knew you _shouldn’t_ be mad. She was drunk, he was _helping_ , but in your mind he should only be walking _you_ home. You said nothing when Dan departed you just stayed with Barry. It was quiet for awhile, he let it be quiet. When you thought about it too much your knuckles turned white around the bottle. In a fit of anxiety, annoyance, and some sort of desperation you asked:

  
“Can we just sit on the stairs? My legs are getting tired.” you were already walking away. Barry followed. The stairs were quiet too. Quiet wasn’t necessarily actually quiet, it was sitting to the side just so people could get up or down. Barry and you squeezed uncomfortably close, lazy sips from a beer bottle, with your head laid against the bannister. It was no words but the music surrounding you, he probably heard every lyric, your thoughts were clouded. The music was a low rumble to you. You couldn’t tell how long they had been gone, and in a gap of wondering about Dan you heard Mr.Brightside by The Killers started playing, with a large groan, you tried to block out the all too relevant lyrics.  

_“While he's having a smoke_

_And she's taking a drag_

  
_Now they're going to bed_

_And my stomach is sick”_

You pressed your eyes shut and let your head fall against the railing once more. This had to be the absolute shittiest song, but, by God, if you weren’t having a middle school scene phase reaction to it. Barry was concerned for you, probably because you were getting sad drunk right before him. But with the care taking skills of, like, an old turtle, he wasn’t too good at mediating you.

  
When Dan finally returned, he hadn’t immediately seen you, which gave you enough time to come up with a devilish plan in that hindsight-less mind of yours. All in the instant of Dan finally seeing you guys again, you grabbed Barry’s face with sloppy palms and kissed him. You tried to make it look passionate, but let’s be real you were smashed. So it was probably a lot more slobbery than your mind was spinning it. When you pulled away you looked at Barry, poor, poor, Barry. He shouldn’t be a pawn in your game of drunk chess- against yourself. His eyes were wide, but not hurt. He was just confused as all. But no, this wasn’t it for him. You pulled him up by the hand and turned to Dan, and for the half of a second you saw him, he looked lost. His eyes were puzzled and his mouth was trying to find some sort of words, before you got too distracted you turned with Barry and led him up the stairs to his dorm. You closed the door behind the two of you and sat on the bed.

  
“Don’t worry” you said, head in your hands. Hoping he could hear you.

  
“I’m not gonna sleep with you” The wobble in your voice was too indicative of sadness, so you laid down. And waited for sleep.


	6. A Chat with Barry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a lil cheesy but u know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got back early enough that i was able to finish early!! I got hella more chapters coming tho so!!! this is kinda short and i apologize but im so tired lmao. Also honestly rlly sorry about how when i first publish these there are a lot of typos and just generally badly worded sentences, but proof reading is rlly hard for me since i miss everything so if ur cringing at my stuff dw i am too and ill eventually go back and fix it lmao.

Barry. There he was lying opposite you in a bed, his bed. Snoring. Last night was hazy, and you remember a kiss, but at this point it was obvious who with. Barry’s face was smushed against the pillow with a slight glaze of spit over his lips. You really found the worst possible way to ruin everything. The perfect blend of humiliating and insulting to everyone involved. The worst part was Dan was in the next room over, there was no escaping this elegantly.  
  
“Barry” you whispered roughly, and a tad shrill. He rustled around, a harsh snort and a mumble following.  
  
“Barry” you extended, louder and rougher. You hesitantly shook him.  
  
“Wh-what what” he jolted awake. He turned to his back, rubbing his eyes.  
  
“Barry what is happening?” you were still whispering.  
  
“Oh, uh we slept together” Barry was pushing the sleep from his eyes and voice, he clearly wasn’t worried about anyone hearing. You shot directly up and ran your hand through your hair, your breath was visible and shaky.  
  
“OH, n-no like we slept in the same bed- that kind of of slept together” Barry tried to save himself, pulling himself up to you. You stopped and turned to him, letting your hand fall from your hair. You crawled over his legs and dangled your own off the bed. Head returning to your hands.  
  
“I really messed up” you said pathetically.  
  
“Not gonna lie, not your best move” Barry tried to match your position, he put his hand gently on your back.  
  
“Just so I’m right- Dan left with some girl, I got sad, He came back, I kissed you, then passed out in your bed?”  
  
“Basically”  
  
“I’m sorry I kissed you” you couldn’t look at him.  
  
“It’s all ok, I understand” Something about Barry’s forgiveness made you feel like a better person.  
  
“You don’t hate me? I know Dan hates me” the pity party was in full swing, but to be honest, you didn’t care, you _couldn’t_ care, not with this hangover.  
  
“No, I don’t hate you” he chuckled, and it was oddly comforting,  
  
“And Dan doesn’t hate you, but this whole little crush on him needs to be figured out” He turned to you, _fuck it_ , he was right.  
  
“Was it that obvious?” you tried to finish the sentence but you really couldn’t keep it together. It was so good to laugh. It was so good to laugh _with Barry_. He moved his arm up and hooked it around your neck, pulled you in closer and rested his head on yours. It was so brotherly in nature, you half expected a noogie.  
  
“Look we’re good, but you’re gonna have to talk to Dan.” He said outwards, his eyes turning down to you. You looked up to him, and sighed into his frame.  
  
“Alright” you unhooked his arm from you, stood up and fixed your hair in the mirror.  
  
“Slight problem” he interrupted.  
  
“It’s thanksgiving weekend” _Fuck_. You had totally forgotten since you weren’t going home, too many studio pieces. You sighed and rested yourself against his dresser.  
  
“Well I’m gonna go shower off the shame” you said stumbling out of his room. The walk back was lonely. And cold. It had gotten so cold so quickly, you never really realized because, as goofy as it sounds, you never thought about the weather when you were with Dan. You couldn’t focus on temperature when there was so much to think about with Dan, when you had to calculate every move to make sure you were doing well. All of this “precision friendship” stuff went down the drain last night. When the thought inhibited you too fiercely you would make an audible sound of embarrassment, probably scaring off some passers by. Your room felt so far, but once you got to the stoop it felt safe, that is until you started remembering every time Dan sat there with you, the accumulated hours of conversation just, meaningless now.  
  
The stairs to your room were endless, and your body had never felt heavier. A rhythmic pounding setting right at the base of your head. Flight after flight felt so mundane except incredibly strenuous. Your movement was halted slightly when you saw your door, had it always been blue? You would quicken your stomping up the stairs and saw the collage of post it notes on the door. Before you could even begin to read them you saw a lime green note in the center. It was an angry one from your roommate.  
  
_“Get these off the fucking door, (y/n)”_  
  
With a roll of your eyes you crumbled the note and shoved it in your purse. You picked a note from the top corner of the door, main reason being it said “START HERE”. It was Dan’s handwriting.    
  
_“Reasons I Like (y/n):”_  
  
You were surprised, to say the least. You started frantically pulling new post it’s, all saying different traits about you that he likes. “Hair” “Eyes” “sense of humor” all sprinkled with new adjectives, once you pulled them all, you saw he used an entire stack to make this. It was all so obvert, with some sort of subtle quality to it. Dan had a way of being a physical oxymoron, if you were going to be honest, this is what charmed you most about him. But God, this was a lot. And you had to forgive yourself for not being able to articulate any thought because, well, who would? It was so sweet and surprising and shocking and- it felt like you were running out of adjectives, despite the practical dictionary in front of you. You walked inside and sat on your bed. This room felt so unreal, this all felt so unreal. You shuffled through the notes two more times, before you could start cycle three you found a new note you hadn’t quite read thoroughly.  
  
_“Reasons I’m sad: Last night. I want to talk. See you Sunday?”_


	7. He's a comin'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fluff upon fluff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know 20 kudos is like baby stuff but thanks so much omg bc this is my first thing i've ever posted to AO3. And i know this all seems pretty final but i have more chapters to work on, and yes, that means smut.

4 days, that was all you needed to do, but once again saying things was a lot easier than actually doing them. It wasn’t even 4 days if you really thought about it, he’d be here _Sunday_. So much for getting work done this weekend. He had a way of making easy things seems so very complicated. Every time you sat down to actually work you got caught up thinking, you’d have to get up and walk around. Palms pressed to the back of your hips, you pushed a sigh out, and would sit to return to your work. It was entirely too aggravating how your thought process physically hindered you. Your efforts were futile, with the last spout of energy you could dedicate to aggravation you threw your brush to the ground and dropped your head between your hands. The worst part was Barry was gone too, he left shortly after your walk of shame. This weekend was you and your thoughts.

  
By the time Sunday rolled around, you were more than a little stir crazy, and well, just plain crazy. You couldn’t even begin to know what to expect when Dan came by. The notes didn’t tell you what he wanted, just a talk. And God, _the notes_. You practically had them memorized. You read them every day, just to make sure they were real and not some kind of joke, you analyzed the handwriting just to make sure it was actually his. In fact when you woke up Sunday, they were scattered in front of you. And after forever of laying in bed and looking to the spot on your bed frame where Barry and Dan signed with cutesy little drawings, you realized you had to be ready when he was actually here.

  
It was quick and sloppy process of putting yourself together, fidgety too. Filled with your now all too common acts of physical frustration and embarrassment. Sometimes manifesting in a grunt or a sudden shake of the head, it was easy to pass now. Did your mirror tell the truth? You looked fine. But was fine good? Did he want you in a blown out temptress costume, filled with the lust that had been boiling since your first encounter? Or did he want you natural? The you he saw resting on his couch, eyes flickering across the fuzzy screen, eyes that looked drunk when you laughed, eyes that had no makeup. Or did he want you a mess? Obvious distress resting in the valley below your eyes, brows knitted and hair disheveled. Did he want to know you regret everything, in the form of an unshowered and uncaring frame? You tried to find the balance of the three, but in reality, calculation is what got you here. If you were to be with him, you had to be willing to be like him, free. So free was how you conducted yourself that morning. You didn’t allow a second thought, you went with what you had upfront. And it was refreshing.

  
Waiting had to be your least favorite thing, but to anyone watching you they would assume you were a pro. You had waited so long for friends, parties, and for Dan. You didn’t even know how you were going to do this, the plan loosely in your mind was to show up at his dorm at 7 and, well, wing it. You had tried writing a script in your mind but, you just got too cluttered.  
  
The knock was abrupt, and startling. You let your breathing settle and watch the door, 2,3,4 seconds until a second louder knock. Realizing it could be your roommate you walked to the door, breaths were waves down your form, and you felt the tinge of ache across your arm as you reached for the knob.

  
He was quiet. Not harsh quiet where you could here the light flicker, not the quiet of drowning out any sound, but the quiet you had when he walked you to his dorm for the first time. Air was breathable and familiar, and if you looked closely enough, you could interpret his hesitance into a smile.

  
“Hey” he breathed, shaky. It was so strange to see him vulnerable.

  
“Hey” you replied, slight nervous laughter lifting your tone.  
  
It was a kiss in its simplest form and its most complicated. With the drop of his bag and removal of his jacket in one swift movement, the lean and swoop of his hands to your face was the very picture of passion, restlessness. Without thinking your hands traveled up his shoulders and wrapped around his neck. The kiss was not firm and long, but rather multiple, piled up on top of each other. Breaths caught messily, between the desperate need for connection. They were strong, and tight. Well, everything was tight, bodies pressed to one another so roughly, they were a physical display of regret. Regret for all the times you _hadn’t_ kissed even though you _should_ have.

  
When motions slowed and your kisses were gentler, Dan found a good stopping point.

  
“Is this the talk?” He smiled next to your mouth,

  
“I’m so sorry” you rolled your head down to his shoulder.

  
“It’s ok” he was swaying you now. And for the first time, it felt actually ok.

  
“For everything, not telling you sooner, and being so… God, I don’t know, _mechanical_ in how I did things I-”

  
“Hey, hey, what are you talking about? (y/n), I like you” he was looking you in the eyes now.

  
“I like everything about you, and I know that’s not actually true but, shit, you make me feel like it is” he was smiling and, maybe those words sounded not so good but you knew exactly what he meant. You weren’t perfect, and he knew it, but he still liked you. You didn't have to be "free" like him, because as annoying and stilted the calculated you was, it was good for him.

  
“I like you too” you laughed.

  
“And you’re a much better kisser than Barry”. He chuckled, putting his head on top of yours.

  
“Not cool” you heard a voice call from the hallway, you pulled yourself from Dan to see who was out there. Barry sat on the stairs eating a sandwich, mouth full he said:

  
“He made me wait here”.


	8. Obviously Dan has a Rush poster in his room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Babies please do not read. Also I totally recommend listening to this song while reading since its the one where the lyrics at the bottom come from: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jasc-kP8uNM

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so i wrote some smut, kinda my first shot at it so i hope i made yall proud. Sorry mom. 
> 
> LATER EDIT sorry if some of the dialogue is changed but i was like ew at what i wrote so i had to go back and change it

As much as you hated saying things were awkward, they were. The word awkward in the last couple of years had developed a sort of connotation to you that made it thoroughly unusable, but it had to be the most useful to describe right now. Everything had so many loose ends. Yes, Dan kissed you. Yes, he forgave you. But is this a relationship? Did he even want one? The thoughts slinged around your head, that is until he held your hand. You were walking to the Old Building with Barry and him, since he never had the chance to actually put away his clothes. You really couldn’t focus on time or place until you felt his fingers slide up your palm and lace between yours. Your grip was soft, but firm enough to be sure he was here, this was _actually_ happening. You always had a hard time convincing yourself that anyone actually enjoyed being around you, so this whole confession of feelings was a bit surreal for you.

  
By the time Dan finished unpacking he sat himself in his normal spot on the couch, and you sat in the foof, slowly sinking deeper, eventually all the beans would part themselves so you hit the floor. Dan’s eyes drifted to you as you sat and watched TV together, with a sigh he got up and walked in front of your view. He was all legs to you. After a moment of looking down at you, with an over dramatic moan of fake peril he collapsed on top of you. With a shared laugh he situated himself next to you, eyes locked, he moved a piece of your hair from your face.

  
“So are you my girlfriend?” he asked after chewing his cheek,

  
“I guess” you faked being cool, but the smile you desperately tried to suppress spread through your lips. Ok, this is real. This is what’s happening.

  
“Do you wanna go to my room? Hang out or something?” Dan asked his hand moving from your ear down to your arm. And that’s when you knew why it was _awkward_.  Tension. Not only romantic but, well, sexual. And yes, you knew your half but, not until now had you realized how much he was supplying. With a gulp, not really of nervousness in the normal sense but some sort of hybrid breed of anticipation and whatever emotion goes with the phrase “oh god”, you agreed.

  
Funny enough, you had never been in Dan’s room. But it wasn’t surprising, it’s exactly what you pictured. Messy and cluttered, a Rush poster stapled to the wall, in front stood his glassware, warping the poster in its reflections. And his bed, crumpled white comforter and littered with papers, it was just now occurring to you that he actually did school work. He cleared them off and jokingly gestured over his bed like a game show model. You sat gently, something in you didn’t let you be too casual. Before he sat he moved to his dresser, and messed with something you couldn’t see.

  
“Hey, hand me your phone?” he asked into the wall,

  
“Ok?” you questioned back, but never the less tossing him your phone.

  
He plugged your phone into the amps he had hidden in front of himself. The music was soft, it hugged the room.

  
“Really? You’re letting me play my music?” you raised a brow at him.

  
“Just this once” he mimicked your expression while he crawled beside you. He laid there, arm under his head and the other laid across his abdomen and traced along the bed, his fingers almost looked like they were reaching towards you. In this silent game of Simon Say’s you matched his position, and you could catch the glow from between blinds coating his body, his stubble was in a little darker. You brought your finger up to the scar on his eyebrow and traced it, when you finished you pressed a little harder and snickered. He laughed back, pressing his eyes closed, you loved the little wrinkles that formed. The tension became even more tangible. He mashed his lips before he could think of anything to say.

  
“I really like you” he was good at repeating this, each time he said it, it felt new. Before you could begin to say whatever mess you were, he kissed you. He kissed you in the best possible way, the way that was _“I just have to go for it now because if I don’t, I’m going to regret it”_. His hand caressed your face, thumb stroking the ball of your cheek. This kiss was different than your first, it was long and deep. He didn’t have to rush it because, you both were here, you weren’t going to slip from his fingers, God, he had a way of making you feel like the most important person in the world. He nudged himself closer to you, and hooked his arm around your back. His breath was gone when he pulled away, and to see his eyes only open a sliver, because the ecstasy was wearing him so thin was, in the most immature way of putting it, _incredibly hot_. In a sudden bolt of energy he turned you on your back and kissed you again, his tongue snuck between your lips but once it was there, it was _there_. Before you could even begin to grasp what was happening he moved to your neck, he tried to slow himself, you guys were trying to do this right. But when he lost control of himself again, he let rougher and longer kisses stain your neck, one of them triggering a gasp so overdone you would blush a little at how exposed it made you feel. When you felt his fingers tug at the edges of your clothing you realized you’d actually have to get naked. 

“Hey” you cracked, he lifted from your neck and looked you dead in the eyes, _Fuck_.

  
“Uh, do you think we could turn the lights off- for when I uh, you know” He knitted his brows, and sat up.

  
“Do you not want to-?”

  
“No! N-no, no. I just, uh, well, I don’t want you to be disappointed, I-” as quickly as you interrupted he was able to conjure a rebuttal. He grabbed your hand,

  
“Disappointed? (y/n)... I don’t think you understand how much I want this. I don't know, when I saw you at that party I... I felt like I _had_ to talk to you. And you're just so... fucking cool? I uh, I just don't think anything can really turn me off from you”.

  
And that’s when some sort of “low self esteem girl” animal instinct kicked in. You had to kiss him. So you did. It surprised him a little, but he melted back into the flow of things. He was back to your neck, working up one incredible hickey.

  
“Fucking asshole” you smiled into a kiss. You worked your shirt off your body as confidently as you could manage. Your stomach was soft, and it had rolls, And you tried desperately to keep it from jiggling. When Dan returned to the kiss, his hand drifted down to the waves of your abdomen, _Oh no_. In other experiences like this, guys tried to make you feel better by rubbing your stomach, in some sort of circular motion, but all it did was create this barrier between the two of you, this _weird_ , uncomfortable barrier. But, to your surprise, Dan only traced over your rolls and went directly to the top of your pants. He got them unbuttoned but was only distracted when you had gone to kissing up his jaw. He then tried to refocus on your bra and getting that off, his fingers fumbled and he let out a frustrated grunt, a slight giggle into his stubble, you got it for him. He cupped and pressed your breasts, and tried to push you back down from this weird, almost diagonal state. You were on the bed again, and he leaned down to your nipples. You honestly wondered where the _fuck_ he had gotten all this practice with his mouth, because well, he was talented. He slowly bunched the fabric of your panties in his hands as worked your nipples, hell, you wouldn’t have noticed if he hadn’t snapped them against your hip before getting them off of you. You were frantic, and desperate. You had been desperate in the traditional sense for quite awhile but, right now this new strain of desperate was more aggressive than any you had faced before.

  
“You ok?” he asked, between labored breaths.

  
“Yeah” A gulp swallowed the word but he heard. He spread your thighs, and kissed the inside of them, and then the son of a bitch _bit you_. You made an _ungodly_ sound, that he only used as fuel when finally moving to your clit. He was gentle, and he started slow, but the sheer contact was just, so much. He started with a quick kiss, and then rubbed circles with the tips of his fingers, when he returned his mouth he was faster, and it made you buck your hips. His thumbs dug holes into your sides, and he suckled gently, he was trying to make this last. Your hand was knotted in his hair and the other, you were biting to suppress the noise. It wasn’t until Dan lifted his head to go back to a kiss had you notice he was still fully clothed.

  
Before he could kiss you again you tugged his shirt, but he helped it off the rest of the way. He dove back into a kiss, and before you got too distracted you tried to unbutton his jeans. He smirked into your mouth, and you tugged his pants off his ass, but got too distracted when you felt him press into you. He was hard, and your first instinct was just to palm at him through his boxers, something about him made you so horrible at conducting yourself. He laughed into the crook of your neck as he pulled the rest of his clothes off. You pulled him down from the back of the neck and kissed him again, this time you flicked your thumb over the head of his cock, you ran your fingers ever so lightly up his length.

“Fuck” you felt the mumble when he moved to kiss the side of you mouth. It was so satisfying to feel like you were teasing him. You stroked him a little more before a mix of impatience and frustration formed a moan in his throat. He spread your thighs again and looked at you, with a slight nod, he entered you. Initially, you moaned into your hand. I mean, Barry was in the _next room_.

Your fingers held his face tightly, they adhered to the angles of his jaw in a way that mimicked veins. He pressed his forehead to yours, and your noses rubbed slightly with his thrusts, which were slow, but they picked up in speed. Each one jolted your body in an almost cold way. Pounding like shivers, the “s” like intake of air that passed between your mouths was reminiscent of winter. But you had never been happier freezing.

  
You started rolling back with his thrusts, and if you wiggled your hips in a particular way, Dan would smash his face to your shoulder, and moan with hesitant teeth. You let your head fall back, seeing him so apart from himself was just a _treat_. He was disheveled now, sloppy and desperate in his movements. Well, he already had a tinge of desperation but now it was on some other level. He propped himself up with his elbow and the other hand held the back of your neck, he lipped you mindlessly, his brows knitted and eyes closed. If this sight didn’t drive you to your edge, it was rapid succession of pulses he sent right through you, and this cocktail of seduction let you finally release. He caught your moan in his mouth, and it was not far after he came. With a final and shaky thrust he panted, and fell to your side.

  
After a minute of watching the ceiling spin in front of you, you felt his pinky crawl over and lock with yours. The two of you laid like this for awhile, that is until you rolled beside him, and he hugged you to his side. Your head laid on his chest and with the very tips of your fingers you drew patterns on his stomach. It was quiet.

  
It wasn’t until then had you actually payed attention to the music that gently inhibited the air. Plucks of a guitar blended with the gliding taps of piano keys popped like bubbles in the air.   
  
_“Take your time coming home._

_Hear the wheels as they roll._

_Let your lungs fill up with smoke._

_Forgive everyone._

_She is here and now she is gone_

_We had plans, we can't help but make love.”_


	9. Philosophical Fucking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basically more smut but like a deeper look into the structure of the relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took forever to write im garbage

Dan was a romantic, an unconventional one, but one none the less. He didn’t sing to you or make a fuss when there was a chance to be an extra “ooey- gooey” boyfriend, but he did text you every morning, if he wasn’t there to kiss you awake. He knew how to make your coffee, down to a science. He knew exactly how to hold you in whatever situation, that is, because he _wanted_ to hold you in every situation. And it didn’t close you in, he knew how to be with you, and not _around_ you. When you walked, he held your hand, he wouldn’t swing it or tug you along, but he held it, and grazed his thumb lightly over your hand. When you stood still Dan stood behind you, hands on your shoulders, or head rested on the top of yours, or maybe just standing. When you watched TV, you sat in front of him, and one leg would cradle your side, while the corresponding hand played loosely in your hair. Dan was a romantic, but he would never admit it. He never spoke to you as if you were his “angel” or “princess”, even the thought of that made you shudder. He was cool, and as he’d like to think, _suave_.

  
Dan was not a professional. He was not a man made for dress shirts and slacks, although he could’ve fooled you. He looked dapper, but a certain petulance arose in him when he was confined to “constricting” clothing. You found this out the night of one of your art shows. It was right before christmas break, and your relationship had been in its “honeymoon phase”, butterflies and surprise kisses, you were enamored with each other. But this seemed to be your first trial as a couple.

  
“I look stupid” Dan ruffled his hair, staring at his own reflection,

  
“Dan, shut up. I’ve said a thousand times that you look good, and while I adore the homeless look, complete with ripped jeans, this is more art show appropriate. Zip me?” you felt like a mother, and quite frankly that disgusted you.

  
“I’m sorry, I know I’m nagging. I just- you know me and these professional types are always on different wavelengths, but if I’m ever gonna be an actual artist I have to-” through your sentence he zipped you, and before you could stop him, he found that ticklish spot on your neck and kissed it.

 ****  
“Oh my GOD, be serious!” you laughed at him, body arching away, but his arms caught you at the curves of your waist. He rested his head on yours,

  
“They’re gonna love you. And I think I can handle a dumb shirt” he swayed you now. His sighs were not of fatigue but rather content.

  
“You look damn good in it though” you mumbled back.

  
“Believe me, I know” you pushed yourself from him and shoved his shoulder with a snort.

  
“God, get over yourself!” You slid into your jacket,

  
“What’s the matter, _Babe_?” He knew you hated that,

  
“Afraid of the _pure power_ of my masculinity?” He knew you also hated that,

  
“How could I be afraid of something so fragile?” And with that you left him in his dorm, a smirk spread on your face, you knew he was following after.

  
\-----

Things could be worse. This could be the show where some fancy art person comes in and tells you you’re garbage, but no, this was a “pretend show” your professor put it on for training, just so you could practice the etiquette. But with no one to actually talk about your work with, it was just a few hours of standing around and eating small cheeses. Dan’s inner child was making a _stunning_ introduction tonight. He was whining. At one point you got so amazingly frustrated with him you stuck out a pepper jack chunk on a toothpick at him and almost yelled:

  
“Here! Literally have some cheese with that whine!” you were laughing, but also on the verge of snapping his neck.

  
“Sorry” he extended in a sing song voice. He took you in that familiar position where his head stacked on yours, his arms found their resting spot right around your ribs. And it was ok again.

  
“How much longer?” he tried to keep from whining, which you appreciated, but you could still hear it, ever so slightly.

  
“We can leave in about an hour” you were a mom again. He sighed over your head, this one of frustration. But you could tell it wasn’t with you. You stood like this for awhile, until you could literally _feel_ Dan get the idea.

  
“Hey, come over here with me” Dan was already gone from your frame, his only attachment to you was your hand, which he was dragging. He stepped over the red velvet ropes that marked off a dimly lit hallway, you knew it lead to the actual studio spaces, but he didn’t. He’d never been here in his life. He took you to the pocket off the side of thehallway, and pressed you back to the secret little space back there, with some incredibly old piece of student work, one no one cared enough about.

  
“Dan, what are you doing?” You knew what he was doing. The worst part was you were up for it, and as much as you’d like to _think_ you had morals in this sort of situation; you didn’t.  
Dan’s kisses were pretty straight forward, always telling you what he meant by them. And he had a good way of taking your breath away in a kiss, which was not helpful right now.

  
“We really shouldn’t” you were trying to convince yourself, and he knew. He knew you were far more into it than you wanted to be. With a smirk he moved to kissing your jaw,

  
“Good point” you said in response to his pecks, how could something so light feel so incredible? He moved down to your neck, on the other side you had covered up a hickey with makeup, and he was trying to make an even match.

  
“That _is_ true” you joked again. In that moment you were able to examine the situation: Dan had some how gotten you to the point of having _public sex_ , so public that it could fuck a lot of things up for you if you were caught, but you were fine, in its most simplistic form. Anxiety wasn’t rearing its nasty head, and you weren’t tangled in words to settle an ongoing internal conflict on some bullshit morality complex you came up with just in that moment so you could avoid _actually enjoying yourself_. You were calm. Which is a lot considering the person you were when you came to this school, a bumbling, nervous, quiet, not even unconventionally lovable (on account of your more unattractive traits you couldn’t really glamorize in some coming of age YA novel series) loser. Dan had changed you. It wasn’t a task you or he had set out to do, but in retrospect, it was something that _had_ to be done. You _had_ to be happier, and you were glad he was the one to do it. It was easier, it wasn’t a production that way. And knowing yourself, if it were some heroic endeavour he had made to “fix” you, it would only repulse you from him. You weren’t being “fixed” in a sense that someone had to do it, but in the sense that it was something you needed to do for yourself and well, he was great at helping.

  
 Feeling his laugh into your skin was probably what finally convinced you, it’s what really set everything into motion. With the vibrations of his signature chuckle, you felt the goosebumps raise in a wave. Your fingers fumbled over the button of his pants, and he almost ripped your dress when he pushed it up over your hips so he could get to your panties. He struggled over whether to push them to the side or to just take them off completely, considering he wasn’t a man of precision he just slid them off you.

 **  
**“Your legs are cold as shit” He said when removed himself from you briefly.

  
“I don’t believe in tights” you laughed finally tugging his pants open, he grabbed a condom from his back pocket, you saw it was the hot pink one you got for free at your last check up.

  
“Dan, that's such a stupid color” 

  
“It’s fine, It's not like- y'know- anyone is gonna see” you both were bad whisperers. You kissed him again, ghosting his hands to help him slide the condom on.

  
“You good?” he raised his scarred eyebrow at you, with a gulp and a nod, he lifted you up, and pressed you to the wall, you wrapped your arms around his neck, and he hooked your thighs accordingly. As he entered, he studied your face, and tried to shush the all too incriminating gasp that he triggered. To muffle any more noise you smashed your face into the crook of his neck, you never really could get used to the feeling of well, him. His movements were slow, and jolting. Thrusts were grander, with a grunt and some sort of shaky quality. You got some sort of satisfaction out of how much he put into this, and the breathy “fuck” you could hear him say for no one in particular was just fucking icing. Should you be concerned about how amusing you found it when he was having sex with you? You loved to see him absolutely _crave_ your touch and have some sort of insatiable appetite for sex, a testosterone fueled fantasy that came directly out of a Fast and Furious movie. And while you liked to consider yourself a modern woman, above stereotypes of manly men doing manly men things, a secret part of you enjoyed seeing him succumb to the stereotype of hyper masculinity. Only for this moment though, any longer and you’d blow your brains out.

  
Perhaps it was because Dan was someone who never needed. His desires were never the forefront of a conversation, the guy never even gave you a straight answer on a christmas present so some existential yearning was out of the question. To be the one thing that he seemed to actually desire was so… complimentary, so validating.

  
All of the emotional intricacies of a relationship aside, Dan knew how to make you feel wanted. This was evident in… well, this moment. Maybe the best physical representation was how Dan slammed his palm to the wall so he could go deeper, it was becoming obvious how not-stealthy he was. You kissed him again, but mostly so you could be quiet. You were close, _too_ close, and Dan was falling apart in front of you. And when you heard a distant set of foot steps, it was the fright that set you over the edge. You and Dan rode out an orgasm as quietly as you could manage, bitten lips and balled fists were something you were used to. In school there was no privacy, and _especially_ not now. It was quiet while you all pieced your formal attire back together.

  
Dan pulled the zipper slowly so it didn’t make too much noise, while earlier must’ve been a false alarm, you didn’t want to take any chances (although, you guessed, it wasn't so important when he was banging on the walls earlier). When you finally turned around to look at him, it was a soft glance. Dan did the thing where he pushed his smile off to the side, and you did the thing where you held your arm tight to your body. Dan’s snicker was contagious, and your snort was undeniable. When it sounded it sent Dan into a silent laughter frenzy. In a Scooby Doo-esque production, you both checked the hallway. The coast was clear, it hadn’t been too long and you all were barely missed, most likely. You both wandered in with the grace of “No, we totally haven’t been fucking in the back”.

  
“(Y/N) oh! I wanted to tell you-” you whipped your head drastically to your Professor,

  
“Oh, is it windy out? Your hair is, uh…” She was innocent in how she asked, she was innocent in how she motioned to your hair.

  
“Oh, uh, yeah” you started,

  
“Super wind-”

  
“Super windy” Dan and you were stumbling over each other word wise.

  
“Ok… Well, (y/n), we’ll talk tomorrow!” her ignorance was impossible. You were about to walk with Dan to your other classmates, but pulled him back drastically to tuck in his wildly wrinkled shirt, with a laugh you put your forehead to his back and sighed.

  
“We’re a mess” He said, rubbing his eyes.

 


	10. Christmas in July????

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas-y things! Pretty fluff with some foreshadowing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey this is pretty exposition-y for some stuff but w/e its also fluff like. Also sorry this is kinda heavily characterized with aspects from my life so i tried to keep it as neutral as possible, but dw were skipping ahead a little in time for the next chapter.

“Well, I want to meet your family”

  
“Are you crazy?” You wrinkled your brow at Dan. He absolutely shouldn’t meet your family.

  
“No, I’m not actually, got that checked out last week, BUT I really think I should meet them, since you and I have been bumpin’ uglies on the reg”

  
“God, shut up” You were playful, but tired. Physically and emotionally. It was midnight, you had been painting all day. Procrastination was great until your midterm series was due. Curling up in Dan’s bed was a good remedy for all around fatigue. Dan mirrored you and played with your fingers, bending each joint in and out, making them dance across the sheets. The light was warm, and that was your favorite. That was the light that cradled Dan’s face the best, his eyes looked deeper, and the iris’ absolutely glowed. His bones were prominent, highlights across his collarbone and shoulders were stark. This was when you were most in love with Dan physically.

  
“In all seriousness, I _want_ to meet them. They’re important to you and, well, I want them to know exactly how fond of you I am.” Fuck him, honestly. He knew how to convince you of things you _should_ do, the bastard. It’s not that you didn’t want them to meet, in theory. It’s that your family was- in the best term- a lot. Your dad was aggressive and overbearing, and your brother was a snob. Your mom was the eye of the storm. She knew how to keep everything in it’s place (metaphorically), and you admired her for it. You wanted Dan to meet your mom. Just her would be too easy. But at this point you had no choice, he was going to meet them eventually, and this was the best time, you guessed. He hadn’t gotten tired of you yet, and Christmas break was short enough that you didn’t have to stay too long.

  
“Alright” you groaned. You hated when he was right,

  
“Yay! Danny and your family sitting in a tree m-e-e-t-i-n-g” teasing you after being victorious in an argument was a favorite pastime of his. You figured because it was rare.

  
“Ok, ok, but a warning: My Dad is going to be weird and hyper masculine, and my brother is going to be the personification of NPR and green tea. My mom is cool though”

  
“Aw come on, it’s gonna be _fine_. You know, you were this worked up when you met _my_ family” Dan raised his brow at you. It wasn’t the same, Dan’s family was cute. Each one of them. They had come up a few weeks back to see him at the school and you all had lunch. This is where you formally met the Avidan family. You met his mom, sweet, and unexpectedly hilarious, his father, also sweet, and undeniably the most adoring father you’d ever met. He beamed with admiration for his son at any chance. Finally, you met his grandmother, who was wise, and unexpectedly open. You never were able to connect with elderly people, personally you felt as if there was some sort of mental block you couldn’t quite diagnose, but with her it was easy. Nothing about her felt untouchable, there was no subject that was beyond her. It was comforting. So yes, Dan’s family was definitely different than yours. So his argument was useless.

  
“It’s different” you shook your head,

  
“Oh, alright” he rolled his eyes at you,

  
“In the morning, tell me which ugly sweater I should wear over there.”

  
\------

  
You loved car rides with Dan. You loved car rides in general, but Dan was your favorite to have beside you. Car rides were beautiful each time you took them, in the summer heat, they were the wind pushing against your skin, a scream from the sun roof cascading through an almost liquid breeze, distant fireworks, and guitars played in the backseat. In fall mornings, they were the oranges and browns of spinning leaves, they were slight drizzles and soft music, warm drinks and poetry. In spring fields, they were a feeling of distance, they were weaving flowers in the passenger seat, they were stops off the side of the road, just so you could watch the clouds. And in winter nights, like this one, they were traveling through space. Snow felt like stars you were dodging and the blackness cancelled out anything around you. It was just you two in the world, and for right then, that wasn’t so bad.

  
Singing with Dan was also your favorite. It was loud sometimes, it was soft sometimes. He didn’t care about how he sounded, but he always sounded good. Dan always said after a song he should just start a band with you. And you always would laugh in response, but you tried to stop after the one time you caught him frown at that. His band had been on the rocks lately, and he was obviously upset. You had tried to talk to him about it but, as in his nature, he brushed it off. But at the moment, as selfish as it sounds, that was one of your least concerns.

  
You had been planning this trip out over and over in your mind. Show up, meet and greet, dinner, sleep, Christmas morning, Christmas dinner, leave. It seemed simple enough but there were so many variables, you remembered the presents? You turned back to see the messily taped up boxes, check. You were doing well on gas? Check. You brought a change of clothes? Check. You were roughly 45 minutes from home. You both had been driving since the butt crack of dawn, Dan actually steering while you stayed awake for, shit, let’s call it entertainment.

  
As 45 minutes trickled down to 30, to 15, to 5, your anxiety was surging through your body like electricity, it felt like static in your fingertips. Dan must have seen how your breathing was sped and and stilted, because he moved his hand to your thigh. Normally he was the one with things to say, but right now he just looked at you. It was enough.

  
When you pulled into the driveway, it was weird. Nothing about this house had been eventful to you before, but now it felt like a “destination”. “Destination” I guess being a formal word for a place that meant something, home had never meant something before. Dan held your pinky with his, while his other hand held your bags, and your arm balanced the presents for your mom, dad, brother, and his wife. When you opened the door it almost felt like you were breaking in. First it was your dog. She was a tiny thing, and she ran up to you like it was any other day in high school, you forgot how much you missed her.

  
“Hello!” your puppy voice was ridiculous, and you would only notice when Dan snickered at you.

  
“Aw come on, Tesla give em’ a kiss” your speech was slurred with this voice, but Dan got the point when you shoved the puff ball in his face.

  
“Tesla?” He was open to dog kisses, he held her to the side of his face, baby burping style.

  
“Yeah, 15 year old me loved puns, _she’s a ball of energy_ ” He groaned in response but still took the kisses.

  
“Hey girl!” Your mom called down the stairs to you, and with that, you shot up to her. Your mom gave the best hugs, and it’s like she had been training for exactly right now.

  
“Dan?” she smiled at him, and he nodded.

  
“Oh he’s cute” she said in her most “mom” voice.

  
\--------

  
Your brother and your father would come eventually. And they both lived up to expectations, your brother went on about how at his dinner table, since he didn’t believe in religion but still liked the tradition of grace, would read a poem every night at dinner to his soon-to-be-born children (he only said soon to be born so your mother wouldn’t go on about being dead when her grandchildren are finally born). Dan squeezed your leg under the table and you snorted, God, your brother was like if a bottle of red stripe grew arms and legs. His wife smiled at you, she knew how he could be, Christ love her. And your father, tried thoroughly to embarrass you in front of Dan, and often threatened Dan playfully because he was oh so fond of the “You’re dating my little girl so I’m gonna kill you” trope. But other than this, dinner was bearable. Before you could go to bed your mom had a surprise for you.

  
“It’s tradition” she said in a sing song voice searching for the present. After searching in the living room making it look post-tornado, only to find them in the dining room, she handed you two gifts, wrapped in the horrible wrapping you’ve had for decades.

  
“Oh my god, mom” you half laughed.

  
“What is it?” Dan asked, chuckling.

  
“Oh, don’t worry, there’s one in here for you too, Dan.” You knew exactly what it was but you couldn’t possibly pass up the look on his face for when he got it. You tore open the wrapping And unfolded your gift, a huge pair of striped footsie pajamas, with little sock monkeys on the feet. You were on the verge of cackling, your mom got you dorky pajamas for christmas every year, but this was a personal best for her. Dan took his and unfolded them, they were footsie pajamas, but with a sock monkey hood and the words “I’m Bananas!” embroidered on the chest.

  
“They’re perfect” Dan wasn’t even laughing, he was truly basking in the _glory_ of these pajamas.

  
“Go change and we’ll take a picture!” Your mom was extra mom-like in that sense.

  
When you two took the picture, a soon to be favorite of yours, your mom headed to bed, and you two would soon retire to your old room. Dan laid in the cramped twin with you, a bird night light was the only hint of anything you could see in that room, this wasn’t a bad light for him either. Foreheads pressed, you lay a while before he said anything.

  
“See? Wasn’t too bad.”

  
“I _guess_ you’re right” you smiled back at him. He pushed a piece of hair from your face and quirked his mouth to the side. He kissed you. Not the one that simply said “Night, babe” but this one you couldn’t really decipher, that was rare. It was long, and his grip was tight, not in the “I need you” sort of way, but a less desperate kind. You wondered if it was the conflicting feelings of satisfaction with himself for getting you to even invite him here, and the disappointment he was experiencing with his band. You weren’t completely off.  As you both let sleep weigh your eyelids down, and before you drifted into nothingness for the night, it occurred to you what it meant:

  
_“Merry Christmas, from a jew”_


	11. omg????

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smut and a drug mention lmao but some fluff at the end

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I smiled so much while writing this ok like omg

Christmas was christmas. Gifts, cookies, an argument between your father and brother, the whole shebang. As interesting as all that sounds, it was pretty bland in reality. Dan was a little phased, but you had grown up with it. But in the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t important. You saw this when in the car, looking over the whole trip.

  
“This went better than I thought” you admitted while you slunk back in your seat. 

  
“Told you” Dan drug out, softly though. You smiled lightly, and let yourself fall asleep. When you woke again it was late, and you were in Dan’s arms. You collected that you were back on campus, and Danny was performing a balancing act of you, and the bags.

  
“Put me down” you said, kindly though. That could’ve come off more aggressive, you hope in your stupor you were able to convey sincerity. 

“it’s ok, really” he was stern, not in a concerning way though, in the “no arguments” sort of way.

  
“Dan, really” when he shook his head at you again you began to wiggle out of his arms, when he lost grip he sighed. Finally to the ground, you put your hands on you hips matter-of-factly. He mirrored you, you then stuck out your arm, offering to carry the bags. He nodded and faked you out with the bags, but then swiftly picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, you writhed like a toddler, giggling and all. He chuckled warmly and kept walking, once you accepted defeat it wasn’t too far from his dorm.

  
In the small space of time you spent hanging from his shoulder, you thought about the bricks that passed below you. The very same ones from when you first met, and how his feet couldn’t fit in just one, how he stumbled around on them to keep balance, and your hammered self ate it up. Maybe you were drunk, but you knew you liked him then and there. You liked his lanky legs and arms, you liked his curly hair and how it bounced when he laughed, you liked his big hands and when they held yours. These bricks were worn well with both of your footsteps. Your shared ones after smoking at his place, the singular ones you had both made, whether it was when he made the post it college or when you carried your shame home after that party. But if you had to recount your favorite time you walked these bricks, it had to be when he walked you home the morning after you two first had sex. He held your hand loosely, and it was the comfortable quiet you both had been so accustomed to. He kissed your forehead and you backed behind the door, waving to him like when you had first met. Hand closing in and out softly, it was innocent. It was new. It was when you knew it was all real. You let your mind wander itself back to earth, and Dan carried you all the way up to his room and laid you on the bed.

  
“My hero” you said sleepily, even tired you couldn’t resist sarcasm.

  
“No big deal, I’m just kinda the best boyfriend to ever exist, like, ever” he played with you, looking at his nails brushing off his own shoulder, Dan’s favorite role to play was the “egotistical asshole”. After a moment of committing to the act he snapped his eyes to you, and a slight snicker tugged a smirk from him. You dragged your finger along his scar, and pressed in when you reached its end, and closed your eyes. Before you could go to sleep, you felt Dan wrap himself around you.

  
\-------

  
While you wouldn’t consider Christmas break a relaxing vacation, it did take you away from your responsibilities. Making it all the more stressful when what seemed like an avalanche of work fell on your shoulders the minute you got back into the swing of things. You had put off your midterm series, and when you were finished that you had to finish three more pieces for the _actual_ art show you had coming up. You were definitely developing carpal tunnel by the end of all this.

  
You spent the past two days basically living in the studio, and you had gotten barely any sleep. But you were finished. Finished, the word was sweet to say. You called Dan, and you hadn’t really realized how late it was until he picked up.

  
“Hello?” Drowsy Dan had a signature voice, coarse and lazy. With a “Fuckin’” interjected when his brain had to take a second.

  
“Oh, hey. I’m sorry I didn’t think about how late it was- I just wanted a shower but I-”

  
“Get over here” he mumbled, and you could practically see him rub his eyes.

  
“Ok, but get some sleep” you felt that mom quality creeping in you throat, so you hung up before it could strengthen. When you arrived you realized Dan hadn’t been woken up by you, rather he was _still_ up, he sat in a post apocalyptic mess of papers and books, highlighters and broken pencils, Barry laid near him, and you couldn’t tell if he was awake or not. You reeked, but at this point he’d seen you much worse off, so to put off helping him after you freshened up was ridiculous. And Barry was, well, Barry. He didn’t care if you were disgusting.

  
“Hey…” you started off gentle, sitting on the arm of the sofa,

  
“Term papers” he extended,

  
“But I’m done.” He looked up to you with an almost _broken_ smile. You couldn’t help but giggle.

  
“Well, now you can relax” You played with his stray bits of hair,

 

“Same to you, now go get a shower, you stink” he joked with you,

  
“Yeah, you stink” Barry rustled in his sleep purgatory. You ignored him, brushing him off with a soft laugh.

  
“Can I stay here when I’m done?”

  
“When don’t you?” interjected Barry, again. His voice was incredibly slurred and stutter-y when he was tired. Dan laughed in response, in retrospect it was a dumb question. While you pulled a towel and some of Dan’s pajama pants from his room, Dan trailed behind you to pack a bowl. As much as weed could smell, you kinda liked it, like how some people really liked the smell of gasoline (also you).

  
The feeling of being in a shower after days of just being utterly filthy is unparalleled. Not only is it cleansing physically, but emotionally as well. And it was fun for you, a painter, because you could watch the colors slide down your form and mix in the drain. You loved showers, and before you started dating Dan you feared you wouldn’t have another pleasant one again. In your own dorm, the showers were communal, and disgusting. Shower shoes were not emotionally liberating. But since Dan had senior perks of being in the old building, he had basically a small apartment he shared with Barry, a bathroom all to themselves. And while you _tried_ not to make a habit out of using his place too much, you did.

  
After you had finished cleaning yourself, you let yourself float in the steam. This too, was cleansing, the personal time you could spend in a shower was a small gift you didn’t take for granite at Dan’s. You hoped this thing with Dan worked out, mostly for the shower.

  
Speak of the devil, he came in the bathroom to clear his bowl in the sink. God, he was done already? How long had you been in there? In reality, it was actaully quite possible you had been in there for a half an hour and not even noticed.

  
“Not looking” he said jokingly, loud enough for you to hear,

  
“Yeah it’s not like you haven’t, I don’t know, been literally inside of me”

  
“God” he half scoffed, half laughed.

  
“You know, I’m not the only one that stinks here?” This was you being promiscuous, good job.

  
“Oh, really? I guess I should fix that” thank god he was on your train of thought, any more explanation you probably would’ve killed- no, _murdered_ \- the mood. He stripped in front of you as you peeked from the small gap you made with the door, but he was not being sexy. He struggled, mostly because he was stoned, over the legs of his pants and through the fabric of his shirt, but once he was untangled he was able to stroll over to the shower as confidently as he could manage. Once he slid in and shut the glass behind him, he turned to you, smiled lazily and kissed you, so soft you wondered if it could even be classified as a kiss. You let your fingers play in the sideburns of his hair, and then trace down the angles of his body, he was bony, but you had mentioned that so many times before. Maybe it was because you were not, so the prospect of skin just being stretched over like a drum was so interesting, it reminded you of drawing fabric studies. You lazily touched each other for a while, small kisses, more lip than anything, passed and you let each other become fascinated with the form of one another's bodies, it wasn’t sexy, but as previously stated, fascinating.

  
Some how you and Dan found your way to deep kisses, which led to heavier touching. His fingers danced down to your thighs, and drew lines, or maybe circles, to your clit. He rubbed you slowly, your breathing hitched and he kissed to the side of your mouth, it was quiet. And maybe that’s what made it most satisfying, it didn’t have to be a show. You started to realize you and Dan lived the most in the quiet moments. That was when the most was said, maybe not verbally, and that was when the most was felt.

  
You stroked up Dan’s cock, slowly but building. When Dan finally was able to realize where he was again his eyes flashed open,

  
“Oh, shit” he slid out of the shower as quickly as he could manage and grabbed a condom from out of the cabinet, and you were laughing the whole time. It was the absolute funniest thing you had ever seen. An erect Dan waddling to the cabinet to grab a condom, trying desperately not to drench the floor, and coming back as quickly as he could manage, was truly a sight.

  
“Oh, shut up” he laughed at you, as much as you enjoyed before: the soft, sweet, gentle sex that was quiet and meaningful, you loved this kind too. The silly, not taking yourself too seriously, embracing the mistakes sex. You kissed him, hard.

  
Dan smirked at you and leaned you up against the driest wall in the shower, he lifted you up by one leg and you held his back with one arm, and the shower door with the other. He slowly entered you, mocking the way your eyebrows rose when he did.

  
“Oh my god, _stop_ ” you giggled back at him, you felt yourself blush fiercely. He kissed you again, and again. You liked when he peppered you with kisses, it felt like he just couldn’t get enough of you, it felt like high school romance. His thrusts were becoming more rhythmic, and with that, stronger. The glass door next to you rattled, slightly concerning but you really couldn’t think of it right now. You had never kissed so much during sex, and never so lightly before, it felt so nice to let things just be silly for once. With his thrusts increasing in rate you felt your grounded foot lose traction, and almost slip beneath him, but as quickly as you lost yourself, he caught you, and pulled you back. You lost about two fingers on the glass door, before you could put them back he began thrusting again, too caught up with yourself you didn’t notice one of your last three go. Two fingers and you were struggling to stay up, that combined with knee-weakening pleasure you were feeling right then, it was no wonder you fell.

  
You didn’t hit anything when you fell, but let’s not say it didn’t hurt. Just not enough for you to notice over yours and Dan cackles. Dan, who came tumbling down on top of you, was so incredibly wrapped up in his laughter, his eyes created tidal waves of wrinkles across his face, and you had never seen him _so_ amused. When the laughing calmed you two looked at each other, the stifled snort passing between you two. Dan moved that piece of hair that always found its way in front of your face and drug his finger down your cheek. The shower water still poured on you, and Dan’s soaking form laid above you.

“I love you” when he said it, it took him a minute to digest that he actually, really said it. His eyes searched you in the excruciating seconds it took for you to respond. This was the first time either of you had said that.

“You love me?” you had your doubts, he was high, and you were insecure.

“I love you...” he said again, laughing, a laugh of nervousness and surprise and relief. 

"Dan you're high, I-" 

"(y/n), I love you. High and sober." this wasn't much of an argument, but his tone was.

“I love you” you said back hesitantly, you were wide eyed for a moment, until you let yourself relax and smile. You love him.

  
“I love you!” he was excited now, and he kissed you, hard.

  
“I love you” he repeated covering you with kisses again, you laughed with him. He said it whenever he found the breath between the scattered pecks he left across you. You held his forehead to yours, he loved you. You were addicted, you wanted to hear it every day, every night, every moment you two had run out of things to say, he loves you.

  
“I think we’re pretty clean” you smiled at him, giggling with excitement again shortly after.


	12. Yikes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It took me awhile to write this bc i hate writing sad things but yeah

Life from that point on became pretty unremarkable. But don’t take that to mean things weren’t good, they were, but in the subtle way. Nothing was grand and romantic, but rather quiet and natural. You developed habits with each other. Like when you stayed at Dan’s place, there was always a point before you went to sleep when you laid with him, head rested on his chest and fiddling with him somehow. Whether it be drawing patterns in his skin, messing with his hands, or playing with his hair, you found a way to occupy your restless hands in this peaceful span of time. Or like when Dan would always kiss you twice before he left for class, once to say goodbye, and the second time because he forgot he already did. Growing up you always wondered how you could be content in a relationship after it had gotten “stale”, and by the definition stale had when you were younger, you and Dan were stale. But it was fine, it was reliable. It was comforting to know something in your life was stable.

  
The most useful part of stability is always knowing who you’ll take somewhere. Dan was always your plus one to whatever life had to throw at you. On tonight’s agenda it happened to be a rather significant show for your art. Your professor invited a colleague of hers that was apparently important in the community. Being honest you were blanking on her specific title so you stuck with “fancy art lady” when you referred to her with Dan. Although it appeared as if she wasn’t too important to you, she was. She was a tell tale indicator if all of your work was actually worthwhile, which all condensed into one person was frightening.

  
“Hey, don’t look so worried” Dan lifted your chin before walking into the gallery, he had even shaved for this, you liked scruffy Dan, but clean shaven was also nice. This Dan had a little divot on his chin, reminiscent of a cartoon.

  
“Sorry, it’s kinda in my nature” you shrugged back at him.

  
“I know, sorry, It just sucks seeing you so scared” he pushed his smile to the side. You really couldn’t stall anymore, so without responding you took him inside. Nursing a cup of water you stood awkwardly near your pieces.

  
You could tell it was her. She was prim and proper, and looked like she had just been cut out of a magazine. Not a single hair out of place, and lipstick practically _tattooed_ on.

  
“ _Shit_ , there she is” your chest was tight when you swatted at Dan.

  
“It’s gonna be ok” he was trying to be calm, but God, it was annoying right then. You didn’t respond, again. You watched as she passed through your classmates with critique, and when she finally looked at your work, it was agonizingly slow. Her lips were pursed and eyes dark. You tried to pin your hands to your thighs, just to keep them occupied.

  
“Well” she started with a sigh, not good.

  
“I’ll admit it’s interesting. But directionless, no purpose” that felt like a stab to the gut, she wasn’t wrong. Doing art for you was to do it because you wanted to, there was no deeper meaning for you.

  
“And I get a vibe of… well, perfectionism. It’s boring.” she was really twisting the blade right now.

  
“See here? Your strokes are too smooth, there’s no dimension in it” The worst part about all of this, is while she was being harsh, she was right. Maybe she wasn’t so delicate in how she put things but it was important she said them. This emotional discovery wasn’t too relevant to your body as it let a tear fall down your face, _God_ , you can’t be fucking crying.

“And-”

  
“Excuse me, but I think thats enough” _Oh no_ , every curse word you had ever heard was shooting through your mind, he can’t be doing this.

  
“ _Excuse me_?” she rose her razor-like brows to him, head back in an almost questioning way.

  
“You’re being a little excessive” like usual, he had a laugh peppered through his words, but this one was not light, it was a puzzled, angry laugh.

  
“Look, I’m just telling her what is and isn’t good right now in the-”

  
“How the fuck do you know?” he was louder now, and people were starting to look. She was getting angry too. You could see the grinding halt of the gears in her mind, you could see the “Who the fuck are you” in her eyes.

  
“Do you-” she started shrill, but she couldn’t even finished because Dan was right there,

  
“No, and quite frankly I don’t care, y’know-”

  
“Dan, shut up!” you were loud. And they were quiet. All the eyes in the room collected on you, and it became so quiet you couldn’t stand it, you left for some air.

  
It was cold still. Winter always felt endless to you, and March was fucking torture, because in March, you were restless, you needed the warmth, especially tonight. But right now the air felt like tacks slowly driving themselves into every pore. You were so mad that your mind, which previously was so organized , couldn’t even finish one train of thought before it conjured up roughly six others. You were so inhibited that you didn’t hear Dan call your name or chase after you, it took him grabbing your shoulder to realize he was even here.

  
“Hey, I’m sorry I just-”

  
“Just don’t even talk to me right now” you turned back around trying to walk away,

  
“(y/n), I just was-”

  
“Just what? Dan you don’t understand what you just did, you may have ruined potential _jobs_ for me.”

  
“You wouldn’t want to work for _that_ ” he scoffed,

  
“Dan, you don’t seem to understand how the real world works, we do things we don’t want to because that’s how it is. Life can’t be the fucking dreams we have after smoking” You were being so harsh, and it hurt saying these things. But something in you was so fed up.

  
“You think it too” he was quiet now.

  
“What?” you couldn’t stop the irritation in your voice, the fatigue.

  
“You know, I thought you were the only one who didn’t think about me like some naive idiot. Fuck, even I don’t think I have a shot at a real life. With all this shit with the band, and all the other fucking horrible tries I’ve had with everything else, I thought maybe you were holding out for me- I don’t know-” he was being a little off topic, but none the less you were concerned and immediate regret settled into your lips. You pressed them before you spoke.

  
“Dan-”

  
“Look I gotta go” and he went.

  
\--------

  
The walk back to your dorm had never felt longer. It had been so long since you actually slept there. The bed was hard, and unfamiliar, but obviously that wasn’t the only reason you couldn’t sleep. Yelling at Dan felt like kicking a puppy. Not just one puppy, but several. An endless line of puppies you were just _punting_. He never talked about how he felt, so to have it actually happen when you had just been yelling at him was a little more than shameful. You felt utterly awful. You couldn’t even text him to apologize, something in you just got sick when you would even think about it. It was about 2 am. You had been lying in bed for hours, and crying. Your eyes stung, and you just wanted to stop but you couldn’t. There wasn’t a poetic way to interpret this, you felt like garbage. And you couldn’t say it enough.

  
You were unable to stop replaying the fight over and over in your mind, and you couldn’t stop hearing him sing the little song he sang when he made you breakfast. You thought about his smile adjacent to the absolutely _broken_ look he had tonight. In this fit of flashes that bordered on a panic attack, you rushed out of your dorm.

  
You were barefoot. You hadn’t locked your door, and you hadn’t even brought your phone. The only thing you brought was crumpled in your palm, and you kneaded it as you marched across campus. At this point you knew the Old Building pretty well, including where the emergency key was. Between the cushions of the practically rotting couch that still sat outside. Dan showed it to you the night you were complaining about how some creep followed you to your dorm one night. He said you never had to worry about being safe again.

  
Once you were able to get in, you walked the empty stairs to his door. There was the possibility that Barry answered, but you were willing to take that risk. If it even was one to begin with. When you knocked, it was almost immediate when he opened. Dan’s eyes were red and puffy, and he was tired. You could tell he had been crying, and if it were possible you felt even worse. You both were quiet. A harsh quiet. Before you let it eat away at you too much, you opened his palm. You pressed the post it note you had been carrying into it. When he opened it, he saw that it was covered in the tiniest print you could manage on every piece of available space.

  
“You know I can’t read your chicken scratch” it was so good to see him smile, even if it was only for half a second.

  
“Well, it basically says: I’m an asshole, I love you, and you’re worth so much” behind your back you pressed your fingers, which were all too busy right now.

  
“I mean, I get it. I was being too dramatic-”

“No. I was being a dick. And no, you weren’t. Dan, I want to hear when you’re upset, just so I can tell you you’re being dumb and that you’re so fucking important” He let a laugh bubble up, and with a sigh, he let himself wrap his arm around you, and hug you. You never held him so tight before.

  
“You’re lucky you’re cute” he laughed, and then kissed your head.

  
“Are you guys done fighting?” Barry asked from the couch, mouth stuffed with popcorn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize now this is 2 chapters I've ended on Barry eating something


	13. California

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some sad things sorry lmao.....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Im sorry I hate writing sad stuff so.... But I totally recommend just listening to any song from Death Cab for Cutie's Transatlanticism when reading this chapter. Totally sets the mood. Also, I'm thinking about writing a Barry thing after this??? Any prompts yall wanna shoot my way?

Everything seemed to defrost from that point on. Warmth snuck in so gradually, you would only notice when several layers turned into an unnecessary sweat jacket. This part of the year seemed to speed by you. Probably because you were loosing your grip on it. Dan would be graduating soon, and while you weren’t completely blind of this, the implications would only hit you now. You were going to stay together, but it was going to be strained. He lived four hours away, so visits would be scarce, but long. And skype _exists_ , but you knew it wouldn’t be the same. But you needed to try, because as much as you didn’t want to gush, you loved Dan. Wholeheartedly and fully. Worse came to worse, if you needed to see him, you could do it any weekend.

  
So you cherished your time with Dan, you slept in longer, you lingered on kisses, which were more often. The “I love you”’s per minute increased to a point where they were a little ridiculous, but he knew why. He wasn’t oblivious to the fact he was leaving either. Perhaps the scariest thing was how his room slowly disintegrated. Items would disappear in your absence and it was becoming all too lonely there, all too bare. Whenever you looked too closely at how much wall you could actually see, Dan kissed you. He kissed you with pursed lips, he kissed your roughly. His eyes were pressed shut, and his brow wrinkled.

  
He was quiet tonight. But not an angry quiet, because he was touching you, as often as he could in fact. And while Dan was often touching you, this was a less natural form, he was trying to just hold onto you, like you'd slip away if he didn’t. Once you both shrugged beneath his covers he held you, your head burrowed beneath his chin and his arms wrapped around your back. You could feel him thinking, but it wasn’t a light stream of thought. He was tense, and just overall suppressed. When he became too overwhelmed with himself he tugged the covers over you two, the dim lamplight shone through the covers. He sighed heavily,

  
“We need to talk” you were still, and tight.

  
“O-Ok” you weren’t exactly excited for this, because you knew it had to do with him leaving, maybe he had changed his mind about trying out, well, everything.

  
“I- _fuck_ \- I’m going to California” his voice was like shards of glass, glued haphazardly together.

  
“California?” this was the first you had ever heard of a plan even remotely like this.

  
“My buddy, Arin, you know the animator we met at- whatever. Well he asked me to do this, like, I don’t know, internet show? His original guy left him and he asked me- I said yes” you pushed yourself from his chest, followed by a hard gulp.

  
“Dan, you’ve never-”

  
“I didn’t want to tell you until I was sure. You know I don’t want to leave but, (y/n), this is my shot. I don’t have a lot going for me, and I could actually be happy doing something there. And who knows, I can maybe start a band, I- (y/n)?” You froze. You really didn’t want to. This was _good_ for him. And you were so happy he could be happy, but he was leaving. New Jersey was one thing, but California was practically worlds away.

  
“Well, we could still be together, we were gonna do long distance anyway-”

  
“Dan, you know it’s different” he sighed. He knew there was no way around it.

  
“I want you to go” you continued,

  
“But I can’t be with you if you’re so far away” you shifted back into him, and you were mumbling now.

  
“I want to though” his voice was incredibly soft.

  
“I don’t want to hate you, all that distance if just gonna give us both space to worry. I don’t want that- especially not for you” you were trying to be responsible, and it was so hard. Maternal instincts, you guessed, were not so natural to you as you had feared.

  
“So this is it?” his voice was dry and cracking. You never wanted to hear it like that again.

  
“I don’t know. When are you leaving?” the pause between those two thoughts felt like years.

  
“Right after graduation” you both weren’t looking at each other, his head still rested above yours and he looked to the wall, your eyes were losing and regaining focus on how your fingers twisted in the fabric of his shirt. Your words were being caught into his chest, so you tried to make them gentle.

  
“So we’re a ticking time bomb” you had three weeks.

  
\---------

  
Days were petals picked, and now you were left with the stem. Dan was graduating tomorrow. Your roommate was off doing god knows what, so Dan stayed with you. He was packed, so you didn’t have a place to sleep there. And frankly, you didn’t want to see that building again. You cried, not fierce and hot, but soft, and slow. Your tears were like the rain slowly tapping at the window. Dan swept them from under your eyes. You both sat facing each other on this tiny bed. You fell forward, laying your head on his shoulder. And it was quiet.

  
You looked back on the quiet. There was so much of it when you thought about your history with Dan. You both had felt the quiet in every breed. You know how soft and how harsh it could be, but this was where Dan and you were. Trapped in the quiet. The quiet was familiar, the quiet was simple. When Dan was there, he was stoney and blank and you, you were thoughts a million miles per minute. Juxtaposition in a relationship was cliche, but it worked for you both. Too well. You craved the quiet, and as scary as it sounds, you felt without him, there would never be quiet again.

  
Dan and you always found the perfect way to interlock, your bodies fit the curvature of one another down to an exact science. Your head to his neck, his arms to your hips, your legs braided to his, his lips to yours. Being so melded to him right then made you worry, how were you ever going to find someone that fit you like that again? Only his hands laced yours so well, only his torso traced the line of your stomach, and only he had the collar bones that your thumbs fell into so well. And his _lips_ , how could you ever find a pair so gentle?

Dan leaving was scary. Not only because you were going to be so lonely, but because Dan held you together. Before you met him you were so lost, you were messy even though you were the most stilted and calculated person. Dan had a way of helping you funnel all of your nervous energy into something, whether it be your art, or him. You weren’t dependent on him, except that you were, and you tried not to idealize him to the end all be all, but here you were terrified of life after he left, which was so close. You would survive without Dan, but you wouldn’t be happy.

Carried away in all of this thought, you hadn’t realized how long you had been kissing Dan. He didn’t notice either, so when you came plummeting back to earth you pulled back, and he had a dazed look glossing over his eyes. You were still crying, and you let a shaky breath sound before the most forced smile you ever gave stretched through your chapped lips. Dan held tears in his glance, and put his forehead to yours. He pressed his eyes and knitted his brows, so much effort into so little.

  
“Do you remember when we first met?” he asked, clearing the choke from his voice,

  
“No, I forgot” your laugh was nervous, but slightly relieved that he was talking.

  
“Yeah, me too” he was trying not to be hurt right now. He kissed you again, movements weighted and sloppy.

  
“This isn’t gonna be a thing, y’know, where we say ‘I love you’ but you forget me after a month in California.Y’know, find some pretty blonde and ‘love’ her. I find some other art major loser who takes pictures of me for his thesis, and calls it unconventional beauty. I ‘love’ him”

  
“Why would you say that..” he had a shocked tone in how he said that, but not in an overt outraged way, but almost disgusted that you would bring up anything other than you and him, and you stuttered over your response.

  
“I’m sorry I-”

  
“It’s ok” he let it be long before he answered again.

  
“I don’t know what this thing is” you were fiddling with your fingers, and wrapping them in the fabric of your shirt, stretching out whatever form it was.

  
“But I wasn’t lying when I said I love you” he was taking so long to say things,

  
“Neither was I” your voices were fragile, so very close to being broken with a cry, a choke, a cough.

  
Kissing him felt futile, but you had to, in a final act of desperation you had to push him to the bed and kiss him. And he kissed you back. Soft melodic tapping at the window, accompanied by the dimness of the sky was enough to inhabit the air while you both made love. It wasn’t really a finale to everything, but just a last shot, to see if something would change this. It was slow, and soft. Any noise was muffled, anything too loud felt inappropriate. And for the first time, Dan talked to you during all this. Dan normally stayed quiet, only letting a grunt or sly remark or anything “worth while” escape during sex, but tonight he talked. It was nonsense, a train of “I love you”’s stringed together with sweet things you can’t even remember.   
And if you could stand anymore quiet, it was there when you finished. Laying side by side, hooked at the pinky, watching the ceiling rotate in front of you.

  
\------------

  
The graduation ceremony was boring, as all were. But you occupied yourself suppressing whatever nervous outbreak you had brewing in your stomach. After it ended, you found Dan and Barry in the quad. And Barry, as in his nature, was light. He hugged you, picked you up, and spun you. You were crying for him too, he was your only other friend you could tell anything to, and you were going to miss the lightness he brought to any situation, he was going with Dan as well. When you returned to the ground you turned to Dan, it was a moment before you let yourself hug him, part of you thought it would be easier to stay away. But you engulfed yourself in his robes, and almost drowned in the fabric. When sliding out of the hug you pressed a kiss to his cheek, as your arms smoothed down his chest, you let a hand trace down into his palm. You squeezed it extra tight, trying to push back your own tears. Kneaded lips and fidgety fingers, you were tied up emotionally. He was heading out tomorrow morning. Because you knew you were going to do something stupid if you saw him leave, you said you wouldn’t drive him to the airport.

  
So, in short, this was your last time being a couple. When Dan’s parents walked over to tell him they had to go, they gave you a sympathetic look, and as much as you didn’t want to to hate their sympathy, you did. Because it wasn’t going to help anything, you weren’t angry at them though, so you gave them the simplest smile back, so you didn’t strain yourself. Barry left with them to give you a minute. Time had the most peculiar way of halting at moments that you just wanted to end. Dan and you stood spaced out. And you both were trying so hard to be from each other. You raised your hand, and waved. The kind a toddler gives, fingers in and out, gentle. Like the night you first met. Dan mimicked you, putting on the exact face he had that night. You really wish he didn’t remember that night as well as you did. You _had_ to be the first to turn, so you did. You left for your dorm, and he didn’t follow.

  
The walk back was long. And when you got to the stoop, you cried.


	14. It over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A nice ending bc im not that mean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading?? this is way more of a positive response than i was expecting so like this is bitter sweet to end, BUT i will be writing more things i just have to actually come with an idea for them lmao

A year can be summed up many ways. Yours could be condensed into few sentences. You were lonely. Yes, you had new friends, but none you felt very comfortable with. You didn’t go to parties anymore, and every on campus band sucked. You became your work, and became immersed in your own art. As much as you hated to think about the night you and Dan had your first fight, you often did. The critiques that woman gave were good, and you were better for it. You hated thinking about Dan in anyway, but of course you did. You weren’t put in the Old Building, upon request.

  
In the whole time in which you had been separated from him, you didn’t really talk. You would send each other a message once in awhile, but “once in awhile” became more spaced out as time went on. It probably hurt the most on your birthdays, when you sent each other a little birthday cake, or maybe a text in all caps. When that happened, it was impossible to carry the conversation, it was so easy for you two to talk previously, when did you become strangers?

  
There had been other boys. A drunk mistake at a bar, on account of your official legality to drink, and acts of desperation late nights at the studio, while you thought about Dan. But of course nothing stuck. You assumed there were other girls. He always talked about how he loved blondes.

  
It was easy to antagonize Dan. Without him there, you were able to tell yourself he was a bad guy, which wasn’t true. And after hours of convincing yourself that he never even loved you, and that he was just a waste of your time, you would find yourself sobbing slumped against a wall somewhere, hating yourself for even thinking that. He was toxic to you, in an unintentional way. As much as you wanted to be rid of him, he found ways to wiggle his way into any thought. You never realized how many things reminded you of him until now. You never knew someone could occupy a year of thought.

  
You listened to his show when you were strong enough. To hear his voice again was a another form of intoxication, to drink was to rid yourself of worries. To hear him was to put yourself so deep into them, they became comforting. He still had a way of making you laugh like no one else. You felt jealous that he joked for thousands now, and not just you. His chuckles were now broadcasted for the world, and not caught in the sheets between you two. And he would bring you up sometimes. He never said your name, it was normally just “an ex of mine”. You now knew that you were no longer your name, but the girl he fucked in a shower.

  
He had a band now too. And it was so popular, when you heard about his enormous success with his recent album you couldn’t help but cry, he had made it. To think that he told you once before that he “had nothing going for him” was just ridiculous. You wished so desperately you could tell him “I told ya so”. In a video thanking the fans he mentioned you again. This time you were known as “Sacrifices… romantically”.

  
Tonight was the night before you graduated. You had gone back just to listen to Dan, just so you could feel the way you did the night before his graduation. Not the emptiness of him leaving, but just the comfort of knowing he didn’t want to go, that he wanted to be with you. To think that you were now a memory to him hurt more than anything. You wondered if you could even try to make contact with him after tomorrow. You didn’t have too much of a plan, because an art degree, as shitty as the reality is, doesn’t hold a lot of weight. For now, it seemed too pathetic to try, he moved on, and you should too.

  
\---------

  
Even your own graduation couldn’t be interesting. You were excited, yes, but you couldn’t wait to just be able to leave, get your work from the studio, and rest. After what seemed like hours of twiddling your thumbs, you were able to meet up with your family. After the initial giddiness swirled into congradulations you all fell to a silence, not necessarily awkward, but just the absence of words. You guess this ran in the family.

  
“Why don’t you just go grab your stuff from the studio and we can pack it into the car” your mom offered after a while.

  
“Well- ok, but it’s a ton of stuff, Dad? Could you help?”

  
“Yeah just give me a minute to, uh sort some things out in the car” your dad was being stilted, which was odd. After a minute of giving him a questioning look with no satisfying answer, you gave up and headed to the art building. On your way you took off your robes, and bunched them under your arm.

  
You weren’t lying when you said you drowned yourself in your work, you did. You made so much that your section of the gallery was the largest out of any student in recent history. To be honest you weren’t even sure how to begin, you didn’t know how to just up and leave this place. While loosely organizing a plan you turned to the corner to the gallery, you hoped it would be empty, just so you could do this quickly without the fake goodbyes to people you didn’t care about. One person wandered the room, they were so far off in the distance you couldn’t make out if they were a classmate, or just some relative too bored to stay with their family, they were tall, and their hair so familiar- you had to be seeing things.

  
“Dan?” you asked more angrily than you wanted. It had been so long. His hair was slightly longer, but he was still as handsome as ever. The gasp you shot out was thoroughly missed by the hand that came to cover it. Tears welled in your eyes as he came to you, slightly jogging. Before you could think about anything happening, he picked you up and spun you. You held him so tight, you hoped it would hurt him, just so he could yell or something, you wanted to make sure it wasn’t some sort of fucked up dream. Your hands traced every part of him you could reach, you stopped at his cheeks. A laugh caught and released choppily from your throat.

  
“Hey” his laugh was so good to hear in person, not trapped in some microphone across the country.

  
“Can you tell me who this amazing artist is?” he asked with a raised brow, he of course was gesturing to your work. And it wasn’t until now you realized he stood in front of your largest piece, a painting you did of you favorite picture of him. It was a polaroid you took with Barry’s camera late one night, he stood in front of their fridge, his hand pressed to the back of his own neck, sex hair a height ridiculousness, only in his plaid pajama pants. You still silently congratulated yourself on how well you captured the orange filter the picture had.

  
“Some loser” you mumbled, you started realizing most of the pieces you did were of him, or something relating to him. But it was far too late to be embarrassed.

  
“So, why are you here?” you laughed nervously, trying to avoid eye contact. But still checking to make sure you hadn’t made him uncomfortable.

  
“Oh, you know. Just in town. I also remembered that you were graduating, and totally didn’t make plans just to see you”

  
“Yeah, that would be pretty irresponsible”

  
“Yeah, I totally didn’t put the show on hiatus for the week or anything”

  
“Stupid idea” you felt the slightest blush coming on. With Dan, came the quiet. It was first time in so long you were able to let things be quiet. And as much as you adored Dan’s sweet voice and melodic laugh, you could never get enough of the quiet.

  
“Oh” Dan remembered

  
“I’ve been meaning to give you this” he dug in his pocket, and took out a balled fist, and placed it in your hands.

  
“What-”

  
“Just open it” It was a blue post it, and in Dan’s curly scribbles is said

  
_“Reasons I’m sad: You’re not in California with me. Come?”_

  
Your hand returned to you mouth. God, this was all so fast, but let’s not pretend you haven’t thought about this before. It was always yes, and you knew that. With a struggle to keep your smile from reaching goofy proportions, and a swift nod of you head, he kissed you. It was a kiss in its most simple form and its most complicated. His lips were nostalgia. They were cereal at four AM, they were bodies overlapping in a dimly lit room, they were a piece of hair being pushed from your face. Out of all the lips you used to recreate whatever current surged between your lips, none could come close to his. His arms were all too real, nights you had been trying to imagine how they’d feel wrapped around your waist before you fell asleep using the scraps of memory you had left felt all too futile now.

  
“So, she said yes?” you heard your mom from across the room, when you broke from him you saw your family waiting there, smiling. You turned back to Dan, and with a quirk in his scarred eyebrow, he flashed his crooked smile. After all was packed, you both walked your last time on this brick path, and as he held your hand, he tried fitting his feet one brick at a time, and you laughed.


End file.
